


Warm Hugs

by quigui



Category: Frozen (2013), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crack, Cuddling, Frozen AU, Hugs, M/M, Magic Curse, Pre-Slash, and one reference to cannibalism, there's some swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-15 17:05:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1312573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quigui/pseuds/quigui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles gets turned into a snowman. He likes warm hugs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warm Hugs

**Author's Note:**

> I sometimes get stupid ideas when I'm walking to and from work. This was supposed to be a lot shorter though.  
> Not beta-d  
> Not sure about the rating too.  
> . . .

Looking at what he had become, Stiles slumped his cold butt into the floor. This was the reason children shouldn't be taught magic. Actually, this was the reason Hogwarts should exist. Not that the young guy in front of him was old enough for his letter. Kids with this kind of power should be kept away from society. Anyone with this kind of power should be locked up, or forced to live at the top of a very lonely mountain.

The kid's mother came rushing. "I'm so sorry. He never does things like this. It's just, it's such a new thing for him, his magic is just blossoming and he is 5. You know what they're like at this age."

Stiles didn't know. His experience with kids was limited, and for a good reason. These pint sized samplings of human beings always managed to exacerbate his ADHD, meaning that every encounter would end in a combined YouTube-worthy temper tantrum. Stiles ignored the little shit, who was gleefully watching him from behind his mother's legs. "Look lady, can't you just undo this?"

"Sorry. That's the problem with children's magic. It's not possible to be broken, unless it fulfills its purpose."

"What purpose can there be for me to be a snowman!?" Stiles shouted, which had the rewarding bonus of scaring both mother and son.

"I don't know. There should be a compulsion for you to do something."

"Lady, you don't want to know what my compulsion is right now." He threatened, looking at the kid again, who had the decency to look cowed.

"No, that is just anger. Maybe wait a few hours. Surely it will present itself."

"Lady, I can't just go walking around like a snowman. I mean, this town has seen a lot of sh-," at the patented mom look he covered for the swear word that had been about to escape, "a lot of weird things, but this is still on the far side of the weird scale. Do you even know who I am?"

The witch just shook her head, confused.

Stiles took no time in elucidating her. "I'm Stiles and I like warm hugs." As each word tumbled down from his frozen non-lips he felt the panic rising. He had no control of what he was saying. His increasing panic was matched by increasing delight from his newfound nemesis.

 - - -

So this was how Stiles found himself as a snowman. Not an abominable snowman as he had joked when life was simple and Jackson was a kanima. No, he got stuck in the cartoony, lame ass form of Olaf, carrot nose included. But worse of all was the compulsion. Every time he tried to say his name, he would declare that he liked warm hugs. He even tried with his real name, that most secret of informations. Still the same result. He still liked warm hugs.

It even worked in writing. Under the assumption that Scott would never believe that Stiles calling with an _'It's Stiles and I like warm hugs'_ was anything but a prank call, he texted him. But there it was, on his screen.

***Been stuck with a curse, need your help. I'm a snowman. And I like warm hugs***

He didn't even know why the need for warm hugs had been included, as he had tried to avoid writing his name. Scott replied with a ' _Pics or it didn't happen_ ', and Stiles maneuvered his cell to take a photo of his bright white, cold, and angry face. He was mildly surprised by how nimble his twiggy arms and hands were.

His phone started ringing right away, and he knew better than to say any kind of greeting. Not that it matter because Scott's laughter left no room for conversation.

"Really, dude? This is serious. Come get me, please, so that I don't scare half the Beacon Hills population."

_"Please say it, just one time. Come on, Stiles, just for me."_

Stiles silently fumed at his phone. He was going to smother Scott with his 140 pounds of pure white snow. "Fine. Hi. I'm Stiles and I like warm hugs."

His only response was Scott's cackling laughter, and he just hung up on him, texting him his location afterwards.

Ten minutes later Scott arrived on his bike.

"Shit, you really are a snowman."

Stiles rolled his eyes at Scott's power of observation, but he wasn't sure how well that worked in his current state. "Yes, Scott. Can you please take me to Deaton? Hopefully your weird mystical boss knows how do I get back to human."

"Stiles, I don't think I can take you on my bike."

"We'll take the Jeep. It will be weird as hell to take a snowman inside a car, but still beats a snowman riding a bike."

"Okay. Where are the keys?"

"Fuck my life," Stiles swore, hitting his head on the wall behind him. It didn't hurt. If he remembered the movie right, Olaf didn't have a skull, or bones. Or give a fuck. Although the whole disassembling himself could be cool.

Scott was staring at him. "The keys are in my pocket. I don't have pockets anymore. And I like warm hugs." The trigger was getting even more non-specific.

"But, did they just disappear? Or are they transformed in snow too?"

"Scott, how the fuck would I know?" Stiles was angry. Angry at a 5 year old little shit that had watched too much TV, angry at a mother who couldn't keep her son in check, and angry at how unhelpful Scott was proving to be. He should have called Lydia. Lydia was practical. _Fuck_. Lydia was practical. Lydia would never a) allow him inside her car in his current state and b) be seen driving his Jeep. At least with Scott he could count on him not ditching him.

"Just try it."

Flippant look on his face, Stiles moved his hand to where his pocket should be. It felt so wrong sticking his hand into what for all purposes was his own flesh. But after some rummaging he found them.

"I'm going to have nightmares about this for years to come." He declared, tossing the keys to Scott. "And I like warm hugs."

 - - -

On the way to the clinic Stiles explained to Scott exactly what had happened to him. Scott had to pull over to laugh at his misery a bit more. Apparently the fact that it was a 5 year old that had cursed him was the cherry on top of the cake. During the ride Stiles had expressed his love for warm hugs 26 times.

"Hey, at least you are not melting." Scott offered diplomatically.

"Great plus, really," he sarcastically replied. "I might as well melt and disappear from embarrassment."

"Don't worry, Deaton will know what to do. You might only need a warm hug, you know?"

"Of course I need a warm hug!" Stiles shouted. "That's the point of this freaking curse." He thought he had relayed the half-assed explanation he had gotten from the witch mom.

"I'll hug you, buddy. As soon as we know it's not contagious."

"Great friend you are. I am this close to throwing you out and driving myself. And I like warm hugs." _Great, 27 times._

 - - -

"Stiles, there is really nothing I can do." Deaton apologized.

He should have known he would be as helpful as an empty water bottle in the middle of the desert. "So, I just hug people out, that's it? And hope it works?"

"That's about it."

"Scott, buddy. Prepare yourself, 'cause I'm gonna hug you." That was the only warning he gave before he launched himself on Scott.

"Ouch, Stiles. You're cold," Scott complained, but hugged back all the same.

"I'm made of snow, Scott. And I like warm hugs."

"I know, Stiles, but I've never hugged a snowman before. I didn't know how cold it would be."

They stayed like that for five minutes. Stiles thought he was melting a bit, but he had expected that after the first minute or so he would be made of flesh and not snow. When Scott started shivering they gave up on the hug.

"Why didn't it work?" he asked Deaton, while Scott took off his wet and cold shirt.

"I don't know. Maybe there is a specific number of hugs."

Stiles tried his best to show his irritation towards Deaton's vague responses. "Can you at least try to be a little bit more helpful?"

"Stiles, children's magic is very random. This one is based on an animation movie. I have seen kids turn their parents into candy."

"How did they get back to normal?"

"They didn't. The kids ate the parents."

It should be forbidden to say things like that with a straight face. Scott agreed with him, also covering his mouth trying not to retch.

"At least here we know you have a compulsion to do something. The fact that you use the plural, may mean more than one hug."

Stiles looked at Scott, who just shook his head, backing up. "Stiles, you are really cold. Let me warm up, and then we'll try again." Scott seemed to have another idea, and turned to Deaton, "Does the curse wear off, though? I mean, if Stiles sleeps it off, will he then wake up human?"

"It's highly unlikely, Scott. That's not how magic works."

"Besides, we have a test tomorrow, Scott. I can't miss this one, and I can't go as a snowman either. And I like warm hugs."

"Maybe you should get someone else to hug you, you know?" Scott hinted.

Stiles squinted at Deaton. "Right. It could be that Scott was the wrong hugger. I'm going to hug you now." With Deaton he didn't quite launch himself, but made sure there was maximum contact of snow and ice with naked skin, just to make sure Deaton knew what was involved.

Deaton lasted about one minute before the shivers set in, but when Stiles stepped back his shirt was still dry. Scott stared in confusion as well.

"Wow, you really are cold hearted, uh?" was all Stiles said.

 - - -

After asking him what he wanted to do next, Scott drove him home. Stiles wanted to hide in his room and try to figure out how to break this curse. Scott seemed disappointed that Stiles didn't want to show his snow white complexion to the world.

During the short ride Scott hummed _'Do you want to build a snowman?'_ repeatedly. Stiles made him shut up by shoving his foot, his detachable snowy foot, under Scott's shirt. They almost crashed twice, but Scott's yelps had been worth it.

When they entered the house, his dad was relaxing in the sofa, beer in one hand, remote on the other, and bare feet on the coffee table. He did a double take as he saw Stiles, but just shook his head in resignation. "I don't even wanna know. Just don't get the floor wet."

Stiles would have been more pissed with his dad's reaction if their lives had been altogether different. As it was, he understood him completely. "I don't seem to be melting. And I like warm hugs."

Of course his dad would understand the reference. Bonding over Disney movies had seemed such a harmless activity for them. He had to put the beer bottle down as he curled in his seat with laughter.

"Yeah, laughed it up, old man, but I've got to hug you," he told him, as he approached.

Scott had been taken by surprise, but had hugged him back. Deaton had made the minimal arm movement for it to be considered a hug. But his dad, bless him, actually initiated the hug, squeezing tight.

Being human and all, it took even less for him to start shivering. Stiles stepped back as he felt the first shiver.

"I thought you said you weren't melting," his father reproached as he looked at his own shirt.

"Strange. I melted when Scott hugged me, didn't melt at all with Deaton, and didn't melt at any other time. It seems to be certain hugs that trigger it."

"The melting, is it good or bad?"

It was a good question. It didn't feel bad to be melting, it actually felt rather good to feel the warmth that triggered it. Maybe that was the answer. "I'm going to assume it's good, that it means that it was a warm hug. Scott, come here, we're doing a group hug."

Scott and his father circled him with their arms, and held him tight. It felt really good. Really warm. He could stay like that for a week.

"You're going to ruin the floor, Stiles." His father said in his ear. Or non-ear. He was lacking those too.

Stiles looked down to see the puddle that was beginning to form. "Well, it's working better."

"But I can't keep this much longer", his father said.

"Maybe we can do this with more people. A pack hug!" Scott suggested.

Stiles thought about it. He could hug Lydia, Allison and Kira with no problem. He would love to hug Danny and even Derek, provided he didn't kill him. He could suffer through Isaac. There was no way he was going to hug the twins. "We could try," he answered because he wanted not to be a snowman.

 - - -

After Scott changed into one of Stiles' shirts they sat with his father watching TV, waiting for the pack to arrive. Whatever pack meant these days.

Apparently it meant the girls.

"You don't like Isaac that much, so I figured he wouldn't have that much effect on you. And Derek wasn't picking up." Scott explained.

 _Good_ , Stiles thought. He didn't want Isaac or Derek to see him like that, for very different reasons. Isaac would never let him live this down. And he wasn't sure he would survive the embarrassment of Derek seeing him as a snowman.

Kira and Allison tried not to laugh at him. Lydia looked like she was seriously pondering over what her life had become, but Stiles knew that expression, and there was roaring laughter going inside her head.

"So, hug time?" Stiles asked. He was trying to limit the amount of times he said anything that could trigger him to announce that he liked warm hugs.

He was in no such luck, because Allison pleaded for him to say it, just one time. And how could he say no to that cute begging face, big eyes and dimples and all. It was like Scott all over again. And then there was beanie wearing Kira jumping excitedly, silently begging too.

"Fine. I'm Stiles and I like warm hugs." At least he could still control inflection, and could say this as if the last thing he wanted was a warm hug.

Scott, Kira and Allison were thrilled by hearing him say those words, and even Lydia cracked a smile. His father was just gone with laughter.

"Okay, guys, let's just move. I think that with the five of us we can circle him." Scott was the first to recover.

"Wait, let me get a plastic sheet and some towels. I would like to have a living room floor after this." His father got up, leaving them waiting.

"Wait a minute, he melts?" Lydia asked. "If he melts, I'm not hugging him. This dress needs dry cleaning. I'm not going to soak it in melted snow that is probably made of Stiles' sweat." Kira and Allison looked at Stiles doubtfully and seemed less keen on hugging too.

"Scott, just give them some of my clothes for them to change into."

While Scott lead the girls upstairs to rummage through his closet trying to find anything that would fit them, Stiles sat down. He took out his feet, and that was never going to stop being fun, and started juggling them. He hoped this worked. Scott and his father, the two most important people in his life, had had some effect. Deaton, who he didn't trust had no effect at all. Lydia would probably have a positive effect. Allison too, although to a lesser degree. And he liked Kira, even if they didn't hangout all that much. He wondered if they should call Melissa too. She would be as good, if not better, than Lydia.

His dad found him sitting like that. "Should I get worried that your feet come off?"

"Doesn't hurt. Don't ask me to explain it, though, 'cause I have no idea. And I like warm hugs."

"Can you also do the nose thing?" His father asked.

Stiles hadn't thought of that, but there was no time like the present, and he just pulled it off of his face. "Well, if we need vegetables for dinner, you can always use my nose." He sighed as he put the nose and his feet back in place.

They positioned the plastic sheet in the middle of the room, with the towels all over and around, hoping that it would be enough. He could hear laughter coming from his room, and he seriously hoped Scott hadn't showed them his porn stash and toy box. Not that Scott knew about the toy box.

It took them and few more minutes of repositioning towels for his father to deem it safe for melting. He laughed at his own joke as if it was very funny. Stiles realized where he had gotten his sense of humor from.

The other four came down the stairs dressed as if they were ready for an exploration to the arctic. "That's a bit drastic, guys."

"Stiles, there's no need for us to get chilled to the bone." Lydia explained, forever practical.

It was cumbersome, maneuvering everyone around him. But at least he ended up covered from head to to- to feet, as he didn't really have toes. Everyone was at least touching him.

They had expected a bigger puddle to form. If anything, it seemed the extra people had meant less melting.

"It makes no sense." Scott complained. "Why aren't you melting?"

"This isn't science, Scott! This is a magic curse from a 5 year old. Sense doesn't figure into it."

"Maybe it does." Lydia said, making everyone turn to her. "Well, not sense _sense_. But it must have been logical in the kid's mind."

"So we just have to figure out how a 5 year old thinks!" Kira added.

They all looked at each other, and arriving at the same conclusion, they turned to the Sheriff. "What?" he asked.

"Well, none of us have younger siblings, and it's not like our memories of being five are all that reliable. You are the only one here with experience," Stiles explained.

"That was 12 years ago. And I'm not sure I ever knew what you were thinking."

They all stared at the floor in silence, hoping someone would have another idea. Scott did not disappoint, "What we should do now is go back to the original plan. You hug one person at a time, and hope it works. Maybe there is some kind of incompatibility between us."

Stiles could see Scott looking between Kira and Allison, his dad looking between Scott and Allison, Lydia just looking at Kira, Allison frowning, and Kira looking down. Stiles sighed and just moved to hug them, one by one.

One by one the effects were minimal.

"Maybe it's all your clothes. They warm you, not me. I like warm hugs, after all." _Hey, would you look at that_ , he had said that phrase by his own free will.

"I'm not stripping down, Stiles." Lydia warned.

"Scott?" Stiles pleaded. "You're a werewolf, you don't feel cold. Actually, can't you just wolf out? Maybe the fur helps."

"I don't get that much fur," Scott told him, but he was already removing all the layers. Allison politely looked away, but Kira and Lydia stared unabashedly. His father decided that teens stripping down on his living room was the tipping point and just left.

They tried the hug again, and this time Stiles melted, but still not enough for him to become human, or even justify the amount of towels spread on the floor.

"Maybe we should try with other werewolves. They run a bit hotter than humans." Allison suggested, already getting her phone out. Lydia picked hers up too, muttering about freak twin wolf that should have even more body heat. Scott nodded too, and Stiles realized he was calling Derek. Again.

A couple of minutes later they came back with their answers.

"Isaac is on his way."

"The twins too. I hope you realize I'm owing a favor to Aiden now."

"Derek still isn't picking up. I texted him, though."

 - - -

As they waited once again for hug backup, Scott took to randomly hug Stiles, with varying degrees of effectiveness.

The twins arrived first, and after the required laughter at Stiles' condition, they got their shirts off and started making a Stiles sandwich. Stiles felt like crying. Stiles felt like clawing his own face in despair. Stiles begged Scott to just kill him. Even being an equal opportunity kind of guy, this was so far from what he could ever want. He might had been somewhat pleased if it had been Ethan and Danny, just because Danny's hotness outdid Ethan's creepiness. But both twins, shirtless, pressing against him, just _ewwugh_.

Unsurprisingly, there was no effect. Scott, the first to realize this, was truly his best friend, as he called them off after 1 minute of torture. He wasn't the best friend ever though, because he had allowed Isaac's first impression of Stiles' snowman situation to be of him squished between the two douchebag-y twin werewolves.

It took about 10 minutes for Isaac to stop laughing.

They then hugged, and it was unpleasant for both parties. Useless too.

"I'm going to die a snowman!" Stiles complained, exasperated, annoyed, irritated. He would have to check Scott's word of the day app for one that explained exactly how he felt. "And I like warm hugs."

"Have you tried melting with an actual heat source? Lamp, fire?"

"Isaac, this is California. We're two days into September. It has been 3 hours. I should be a puddle by now."

"Maybe there is one specific hug that you need." Kira suggested. "Like in the fairy tales, true love's kiss that breaks the curse."

"Have you even seen the movie?" Stiles turned to Kira. "There was no true love's kiss in this one. Just sisterly love."

"Maybe that's why Scott's hugs work better."

"Allison, in case you didn't notice, I have no siblings. Scott is the closest I have to a brother. And then there's dad, and I've tried him too. It might be working better but it's still not good enough. If that's the answer, I'm never going to be human again. And I like warm hugs."

By now the twins seemed to be also discussing ideas, and Scott and Isaac were muttering between themselves. The noise made the room feel more crowded than it actually was, and Stiles was starting to develop a headache.

"Let's look at this logically," Lydia shouted, earning a snort from everyone. "Or as logical as it is possible. So far we have found that people Stiles gets along with work better than people Stiles despises, and more skin contact means more body heat. Theoretically, if the one hugging could sustain being in contact with Stiles for long enough, he might melt."

"Lydia, I have been thrown in a tub full of ice and pretty much died, and that was still better than hugging Stiles." Isaac explained.

"No one is suggesting that yo-"

"Enough." Stiles shouted. His house was full of unhelpful people. "Everyone out. I'm getting a headache just from listening to you! And I like warm hugs! Fuck it! Scott, call your mom. You are allowed to stay but only if you stay quiet and hug me. Allison see if your dad knows something. Anything."

Everyone left, everyone but Lydia. "Lydia, please. Just go. You are not helping. You have no more clue about this than I do."

"Shut up, Stiles. We are getting to the bottom of this. Even if you have to hug the entire Beacon Hills population."

Stiles removed his carrot nose and proceeded to stab himself with it to show Lydia how done he was.

"Stop behaving like a kid!" She roared, causing him to stop, stunned, carrot still sticking from his white chest. "I was going somewhere when Isaac interrupted me. It's people you care about that do the trick, Stiles. So, let's make a list, of the people you care about."

"Come on, Lydia…" he groaned.

"Stiles, I know you, this list won't be very long. There's your dad, and Scott, and Scott's mum. There is Allison and I, and I suppose you care about Kira too. But look, Isaac is part of Scott's pack and you don't really care about him, or at least you care just enough to keep Scott happy. So, who is missing?" She pressed.

Stiles thought, and thought hard, and harder still. There were a lot of people he tolerated, and people he would get sad if something bad happened to them. But he thought the threshold for this curse would be a little bit higher, probably at the level of people he would actively try to save if they were in danger. "I don't know, Lydia. Some of the oldest deputies, who I have known since I was a kid. Some people at school might qualify. But apart from Scott's mum, I've pretty much hugged everyone I care about."

Lydia said nothing, squinted her eyes at him and then, shaking her head, threw her hands in the air. "I give up. You try to figure out how to get out of this situation on your own."

She left him alone to rethink his life. Stiles flopped down on the floor on top of the damp towels.

She was back 3 minutes later. "What were you doing when you got cursed?"

"Minding my own business," he replied without moving from the wet spot on the floor.

"Stiles," she censured.

"Lydia," he mocked.

"What were you doing before you got cursed?"

"I don't know. Going to my car. I was on the phone. I was talking with Derek, about him being a pain in the ass and not wanting to throw Scott a wolf themed birthday party."

"That is a great idea, Scott would love it. Why would he not want to do it? He usually jumps at the opportunity to do something nice for Scott."

"I wanted to use his loft. And I like warm hugs. He is still pissed about the last time."

"Oh." Yeah, oh. The rave on his loft had not been their idea, but they hadn't stopped it either. "But Stiles, maybe that's it. If the kid heard you talking with Derek, maybe you just need to hug Derek."

"Why? Wasn't your theory that I have to care about the person hugging me?"

The sound that came out of Lydia made Stiles sit up straight. He wasn't sure how to describe it. Was that a growl? A wail? A grail? A wowl? Whatever it was, it meant Lydia was seriously angry with him.

"Stiles! Stop being so obtuse! Why do you think Kira mentioned true love's kiss? Why do you think Scott called Derek? More than once! Why do you think Allison suggested werewolves? Who do you think I've been hinting at since I arrived? You are not fooling anyone but yourself when you say you don't care about Derek Hale."

 _Damn_. He thought he had been sneaky. He hadn't even told Scott about his crush. This was very different from his crush on Lydia. How had they all figured it out? _Wait! Did Derek know?_ Stiles thought of Derek's reactions to him, and supposed probably not. He hadn't changed his behavior. It was the same contempt and annoyance as always. "I'm not sure Derek would hug me, though. And I like warm hugs."

Lydia took off her pumps, and threw them at him, one after the other. She had surprisingly good aim. Stiles had one heel stuck in his forehead and another in his chest, where his heart should be.

"I'm going to take you to Derek's loft."

 - - -

Stiles hadn't had any say in the matter. Lydia just hauled his sorry ass into her car, went back to get the pieces of him that he purposely had dropped, and drove him right to Derek's loft.

"Out," she commanded. "I don't want to see you again unless you are human."

Stiles calculated his chances of making her reconsider, and figured dealing with a grumpy werewolf was safer. He was barely out of the car when she drove off.

As he made his way to the building he came across Peter, who just hugged him, without any warning.

"What-? What the hell are you doing!? Get off me!" Stiles squirmed to get away.

"But I thought you liked warm hugs, Stiles," Peter replied, laughing.

"Not from you, I think I froze even more- wait, how do you know about the hugs?"

"Isaac told me."

"He would, wouldn't he?" Stiles muttered. "I'm not here to hug you, Peter. And I like warm hugs."

"I know, but I couldn't let this opportunity pass. You'll find my lovely nephew in his loft. I am just leaving, don't worry," he replied with a wink.

 - - -

Stiles was glad Derek didn't understand the concept of locks, which meant that he didn't have to wait to be let in. He weighted the risks of trying to surprise hug Derek, but then remembered that he would most likely hear him coming.

He found Derek doing pull ups in what he had always assumed to be just an exposed pipe, but clearly had to be something stronger. It was a very nice sight, so he didn't interrupt him, and just stared.

"What do you want, Stiles?" _Right, werewolf hearing_. Derek didn't even pause his exercises.

"A hug. See, I've been turned into a snowman and I like warm hugs." He replied sarcastically, although it was the absolute truth.

"I know. Scott texted me."

Stiles glared at Derek's back, but it was pointless. Derek couldn't see his exasperation. He would have to shout instead. "So why didn't you show up?"

"He said you have already tried with the rest of the pack. I fail to see why it would be any different with me."

"Good point, you should tell that to Lydia who forced me to come here. But it wouldn't hurt to try. Come on, let's hug."

Derek let himself fall from the bar, and turned to take in Stiles. He had to be the first person not to laugh in sight of Stiles' snowy complexion. He just picked up a towel and started to dry the sweat from his face, as if a snowman in his home was normal. "You're cold," he used as an excuse.

"That is the problem at hand, yes. But you are a werewolf, you can take it."

"I've just finished working out. I'm too warm. I might heal, but believe me, the temperature difference is not good or pleasant."

"Well, warm hugs is what I'm looking for, after all. You'll get over it, big guy."

Derek frowned at the floor, and then nodded. "Fine." He tossed the towel down but made no other move towards hugging.

Stiles supposed he would have to do all the work. He went to Derek and put his arms around him. He tried not to touch too much skin, mindful of Derek's complaints, but it was hard, as Derek was wearing one of his flimsy wife beaters.

Stiles was surprised when Derek put his arms around him. He had expected this to be a Deaton-like hug, not a Scott-like one. But Derek was not half-assing this. Nor had he been lying before. "You really are warm," Stiles said, snuggling into it.

"Shut up, Stiles," he got as response, and he complied. It felt really good to just enjoy that hug.

The silence didn't last long.

"Stiles, you are melting." He could feel Derek's face scrunching up in confusion.

"Yes, I am. And I like warm hugs," he replied contentedly not letting go of his embrace.

"What happens if you melt?"

"Hopefully, I become human. Or you get your Stiles' problems solved because I'll be a puddle, and I don't think puddles can talk. And I like warm hugs."

Derek ended the hug, stepping back. "Stiles, you are annoying, but I don't want you to disappear."

"That's so sweet. But you have to keep hugging me. I think it is actually working." He said, looking at the puddle forming underneath them. Thankfully Derek had never gotten around to put any kind of flooring in the loft. "And I like warm hugs."

Derek was fast learning to ignore the _warm hugs_ of every sentence. He didn't even bat an eyelash at it. He just- wait, why was he taking the shirt off?

"Why are you taking your shirt off?"

"You've soaked it through, and if what you say is right, it's the body heat that helps."

It made perfect sense, and Stiles nodded along, panicking internally as he tried to figure out if snowmen could get boners. It hadn't been a problem before. Scott was his brother. The twins no matter how sculpted they were, they just registered as gross and creepy in Stiles mind. The only one close enough had been Lydia, and she must have chosen the most unflattering clothes in Stiles wardrobe. But Derek and his abs and pecs and arms and silent treatment, and Stiles awkward older guy crush on him… This was bound to end badly.

Preparing for the worst, he renewed the hug, glad for the warmth again. They stayed hugging in awkward silence. Stiles thought he would never suffer through that as he was unable to shut up, but suddenly he didn't know what to say. And taking into account that he was bound to repeat that he liked warm hugs at least 50 times, he wasn't really feeling like talking.

The plus side of the awkwardness was that there was no chance he would pop a boner now.

"Stiles?"

"What?"

"How weird would it be if I took my sweatpants off?"

Stiles stiffened, frowned, reviewed Derek's sentence in his head, and looked at the guy hugging him. "Why would you want to take your pants off?"

"They are completely wet. And ice cold. And sticking. It's… Unpleasant."

Stiles took a step back. It wasn't just Derek's pants that were wet. He was soaked from top to bottom. "Wow, this really is working." Stiles looked at himself but he was still a snowman. "How come you are not cold yet?"

"I can take a bit of cold."

"Derek, not even Scott could stand this much time hugging me."

Derek just shrugged as if it wasn't a big feat. "So? I can go change into something dry, if you prefer?"

"Nah, it's fine. Who wouldn't want to be hugging you in your underwear?" Stiles was assuming there was going to be underwear.

"Is that sarcasm?" Derek looked confused.

"Actually no. You're hot, and not just in terms of body heat."

Derek preened at that, and Stiles was dumbfounded. Had no one ever told Derek that he was hot? He thought that highly unlikely.

Derek proceeded to strip, and Stiles glanced to where his own junk should be. There was no visible activity. But he felt a lot of activity. Snowmen were sexless, apparently.

Derek was wearing black boxer briefs, already damp from all the melting. Stiles tried not to stare. Which meant he was looking anywhere else but Derek, making it all more obvious.

With all the staring at somewhere else, he missed when Derek sat on the floor.

"Stiles?"

"Wha-? What are you doing down there?"

"I had an idea. Sit here down with me. This way there's more skin contact."

"You want to…" Stiles searched for a better word than the one that popped in his head, but could find none," cuddle?"

Derek shrugged. _Great_ , he was going to cuddle with Derek Hale but he was just _meh_ about it.

"Actually, I'm tired of standing," Derek added nonchalantly.

Stiles admitted defeat, and just sat on the space between Derek's legs. Derek's muscular and hairy legs.

Derek pulled him back against his chest.

"Aren't I too cold for this?" Stiles asked.

"I can take it, Stiles. Let's just get you to be human again."

Stiles let himself fall into the embrace, Derek's strong arms around him, and legs touching. Derek let his head fall into his shoulder, hooking his chin over it. Stiles relaxed, tilting his head to give him more space, and resting it on Derek's arm. Their legs were touching, and Derek moved one of his feet to rest over Stiles' legs.

"Warm enough?" he asked, whispering in his ear. Stiles was sure he would have shivered if it was possible for a snowman to do so.

"Yeah. I don't know how you can stand the cold, though."

Derek didn't answer, and they stayed like that in silence. It wasn't as awkward as before, just comfortable silence. The warmth and Derek's steady breathing was lulling Stiles into sleepiness, and so he closed his eyes.

 - - -

Stiles woke up feeling lips pressed against his shoulder. He couldn't tell if Derek was sleeping or not, but the hug had become lax.

"You are going to end up with your tongue stuck, if you keep doing that," Stiles warned. He wasn't quite ready to open his eyes yet.

Derek started behind him, meaning that he had been asleep. "Wa- What?"

"You're going to get your tongue stuck on my skin if you're not careful."

"Stiles, you are human again," Derek said, as if it was obvious. He then let his head fall down again, resuming his sleeping position.

Stiles opened his eyes and marveled at the sight of his arms and legs. He touched his face, and pulled his nose, just to be sure. "I am human!" he shouted.

"I just told you that," Derek muttered against his shoulder.

But Stiles was too overjoyed to care for Derek's complaints. He was finally made of flesh again, still painfully pale, but at least not made of snow. "I don't like warm hugs," he proclaimed. Derek snorted, but didn't move. "Well, I do like them, but I'm not saying it every other sentence." He laughed, he clapped, he even kicked his feet in joy. He tried to get up, but Derek tightened his hold.

"Hey, buddy? I'm human now, you can let go."

"I'm cold. You're warm now." Derek muttered, snuggling against his back.

Stiles put his hands on Derek's arms, and felt how cold they were. The guy had a point. After all he had been there, almost naked, holding on to a block of snow for- Stiles looked at the windows, and it was already dark out, so he estimated it had been a couple of hours. He was about to tell Derek to put on some clothes when he heard the light snore.

He hung his head in defeat, but knew that Derek wouldn't get warm in his boxers, sitting in puddle. "Come on, big guy. Let's get you dressed. I have to go home, I have school tomorrow."

Derek whined, stretched both his legs and his arms, and yawned. Stiles thought of making his escape, but wasn't quick enough, as Derek renewed his tight grip around him. "Five more minutes," he mumbled.

"Derek. You're sitting in a puddle. So am I. My ass is getting very wet."

"Fine." Derek released him, and Stiles got up. He checked his body again, for any kind of snow or carrots or traces of the curse. He was happy to find none.

Derek was also up, already doing stretching exercises, joints cracking. Stiles was unable to look away this time, hypnotized by the way the muscles moved. Thankfully Derek had his back turned to him.

"Are you sure you'll be okay going home?" Derek asked, looking over his shoulder.

Stiles forced his eyes to rise from staring at Derek's body, with very little success, and began to say _yes,_ but then he remembered Lydia had dropped him off. "I'll have to call Scott. Or my dad. Or Lydia, since she's the one that brought me here."

"I'll take you home," Derek offered, still stretching. "Let me just get dressed. And dry."

"Thanks." Stiles watched him go up the staircase, admiring the muscular thighs, and the toned calves. On the last turn of the staircase, Derek threw him a knowing smirk.

 - - -

Derek was silent during the drive home, and Stiles was still marveling at having five fingers again. And ears. And proper hair. The drive was over in a flash. Stiles wasn't sure if he had been too distracted with his own body, or if Derek had been speeding.

He had focused on his body to try to keep unwanted reactions minimal. Being a snowman sucked, but the whole ordeal had managed to keep his wank bank well supplied, at least. He also tried not to think of what he was planning to do as soon as he got into bed. He wasn't sure if werewolves could smell boners, but Scott had told him that Derek had a very sensitive nose, and that he was able to smell emotions.

As Derek parked his car in front of his house, Stiles stopped the study of his own hands, to look up at him. There was no sign of the sleepy Derek that had been in the loft. There was just a very neutral looking Derek.

 "Thanks for the ride. And for de-cursing me," Stiles said, hand on the door handle.

"No problem." Stiles got out and closed the car door. He was about to walk away when Derek rolled down the window and called. "Stiles?"

"Uh?"

"We should do this again."

"What? Get turned into a snowman!?" Stiles was confused. This had not been a happy occurrence.

"No. Cuddling." Derek replied cheekily, driving away.

Stiles stared at the disappearing car, speechless, but knew he would end up taking up on Derek's suggestion.


End file.
